


Take Away A Man's Hope

by loveavillain (copper28)



Category: The Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copper28/pseuds/loveavillain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl's not going to give up hope. Not even when everyone else has given her up for dead. He'll find her again. He will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Away A Man's Hope

Standing in the shadows of the container, Daryl watched as the group shifted under the threat that was laced in Rick’s words. He could see the ones he didn’t know tense, their shoulders stiffening at the danger that clearly stood before them. Rick had a hand pressed against the door they’d just come through, his breathing surprisingly calm and even. The cogs were turning in his brain, and Daryl knew they’d have a plan of escape by tomorrow. He’d seen Rick work under pressure, and the man always came out on top. Michonne’s gaze was glued to the strangers, only softening when she caught sight of Glenn and Maggie. The tension was broken when Maggie lurched forwards, flinging her arms around the hardened woman.

“I’m so damn happy to see you.” She said, her voice rougher than Daryl remembered.

Once the first move had been made, everyone got into the swing of greeting one another. The strangers introduced themselves too. Army guy, a science nerd, and a cold lookin’ woman, as well as some girl Glenn had picked up. Tara. Daryl regarded them from a distance. As much as he accepted them, they were friends of his if they were friends of Glenn and Maggie; he didn’t really feel like playing happy families right now. Not after the week he’d had. Army guy, Abraham, was talking about disappearing off to Washington or some shit like that, Daryl couldn’t really hear, he was pressed up against the far side of the container, as far away from the reunion as he could. He didn’t respond to it, but the defiance had already set in his jaw as he clenched his teeth together. No way was he traipsing off to Washington without Beth.

It felt like his blood froze when he heard Maggie’s voice, her hand on Rick’s arm and tears welling in her eyes. “Has anyone seen Beth?”

There was a pause before Rick sighed, his head lowering, almost in defeat. Then he glanced back, locking eyes with Daryl in the darkness. “She got out with Daryl.” He said slowly, his tone grave.

Maggie’s attention turned to the archer, fixed him with a long stare. “…she dead?” She asked, her voice quiet, on the verge of breaking.

Daryl swallowed back the lump in his throat, shifting his weight around uncomfortably. He didn’t speak; he didn’t think he could yet without crying his damn eyes out. So instead, he just shrugged his shoulders.

Anger flared up across Maggie’s face, her eyes narrowing and her jaw tightening. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head, swallowing hard and refusing to meet her angry stare. “It means I don’t know. I don’t know where she is, she’s just… gone.”

“Gone? How can she be just gone?” The anger was rising in the Greene sister, piling up the blame onto Daryl’s shoulders.

Daryl shrugged again, leaning his back against the cool metal of the container.

Maggie took a step forward, around Rick so she could face Daryl properly, some distance still between them. She could barely see his face, hidden beneath his shaggy hair and the shadows he seemed to let consume him. “What happened?” She growled, silently demanding that he looked at her.

He lifted his head, answering her question as quickly as he could. “She got out with me, got cornered in a house. Told her to run, I’d meet her outside. When I got there… all her stuff was there and some car was speeding off down the road.” He dropped his gaze, studying the floor.

Maggie didn’t respond for a moment, her body rigid and coiled. Heat bubbled beneath her skin and she took a long breath before she spoke again. “You let her get taken?” She knew that Daryl probably did all that he could, but she needed to feel something other than defeat. She couldn’t let grief swallow her up, not after her father too. She needed to be angry with him, furious, because if Beth had been with Daryl she should have been _safe_.

Daryl flinched a little at that. The words stung, but he didn’t fight them because it was true. He let her get taken. He let that car drive off into the distance, let them have her. He didn’t respond to Maggie’s question. Couldn’t even bring himself to admit he’d failed her, failed _Beth_. 

“You let my little sister get taken. She could be anywhere, could have anything being done to her. You let her get fucking…” Maggie trailed off, her hand beginning to shake at the fury that was building inside her. How dare he. How dare he let her get hurt, lose her, let her get carted off and then carry on like it was nothing. Just stand there like it would all be okay, the great Daryl Dixon, guardian angel to them all. “You. You were supposed to take care of her!” She shouted then, her accusing gaze fixed on Daryl as Glenn took a concerned step forwards.

Daryl nodded slowly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “Yeh. I know.”

Maggie stared at him in disbelief. “That all you got to say? You fucker. Bet you wanted her to get took, didn’t you?! She too slow for you? Just get in your way? Why didn’t you bloody _save her_ like the goddamn hero you’re supposed to be?”

Something flashed in Daryl’s eyes and he suddenly pushed off the wall of the container, standing on his own two feet and getting closer to the angry woman, despite the fact that moving sent pain lashing up his side from his recent beating. He growled, the words coming low and threatening. “I fucking tried! You think I wanted her to get taken? You think I wanted that?”

Maggie wasn’t intimidated. She just took a step forward, her shoulders set stubbornly for a fight.  “Yeah, yeah I do. You didn’t care about her; bet you wished every night she’d just get bit just to have her off your hands.”

The accusation had him seeing red. Daryl lurched forward, a fire blazing in his eyes. He grabbed hold of Maggie’s top and pulled her face into his, ignoring the shouts that came from Rick and Glenn. “You don’t know shit.” He spat, his teeth gritted and his fingers tightened around the material he had balled up in his hands. “I fucking protected that girl, and she protected me. I chased that damn car til it disappeared into the horizon, and then I just kept on runnin’, kept tracking til’ I couldn’t run no more. Til’ I fell down in the dirt. So don’t you tell me I don’t care, cause you don’t know shit. You hear me? You can beat my ass into the ground for losing her, I couldn’t give a fuck, I deserve it. I know I lost her, but that don’t mean I ain’t stopped looking. More than you’ve fucking done. Leaving all them signs for Glenn, not once did you think ‘bout Beth. We fuckin’ saw them on the way here, all written in blood. Couldn’t even spare god damn walker blood for _your_ little sister, so you can get the hell off that high horse and either shut up or kick me til I can’t see straight.” He let go of her roughly, lowering his head so his long fringe covered up the moisture that threatened to spill from his eyes, hands shaking ever so slightly. He waited for her to make her choice, braced himself for a punch or a kick.

Maggie flew at him, her fist colliding with the hard muscles of his stomach. The force behind the blow took him a little by surprise; she didn’t look like she could hit someone that hard. Breath caught in his throat, and he doubled over as his body was pushed backwards. It felt like the whole container was suddenly in the middle of an earthquake as everyone moved at once. Daryl felt another punch, (or perhaps it was her knee?), and the pain that wracked through his body made him lose his footing, dropping to the floor like a sack of spuds with a loud clang.

The noise rang in his ears as he struggled to keep his breathing under control. He kept his head down, not trying to get back up to his feet. He could hear the muffled sound of raised voices, of Rick shouting and of Maggie’s hysterical accusations, but he couldn’t make out the exact words. Felt like he was in some sort of bubble. Pain seemed to ebb across his whole body and it took him a good five minutes before he could concentrate enough to focus on what was going on around him. Ignoring the dull ache in his abdomen, Daryl looked up from the floor through his dark greasy hair.

Maggie was sat as far away from him as possible, surrounded by both Glenn and the others he didn’t really know, muttering to her husband. Carl hovered between the two sides of the container, his gaze flicking between both Daryl and Maggie. Michonne stood close to the kid, though her eyes were only fixed on Daryl, concern creasing her brow.

A hand touched Daryl’s shoulder, and Daryl reacted on instinct, instantly hissing and flinching away. Rick held his hand up in submission, crouched beside the roughed up man. “Easy, it’s alright.”

Daryl grunted, relaxing and shifting to sit up and scoot backwards so he could use the wall to support his weight.

Rick moved with him, sitting angled towards the wall and facing Daryl. His hand reached out again, slower, and rested against Daryl’s knee. “You alright?”

A vague hum was all he got in response.

Rick sighed, wiping his free hand across his forehead. “You sure?”

“’M fine. Deserved it.” Daryl muttered, his voice low and his eyes focused on the ground beside him instead of Rick.

“No, no y’didn’t. I don’t care how much you think this is your fault, you didn’t deserve that.” Rick said.

Daryl huffed, picking at the hem of his worn out shirt. “Is my fault. Let her get took.”

Rick leaned back a little, sighing again. “When are you gonna learn that you can’t protect people from all sides?”

Daryl gave a humourless snort in response to that. “Beth don’t need no protecting. She can take care of herself.” He mumbled, fighting the lump that had appeared in his throat again. That was a lie. She couldn’t take care of herself, not totally. She needed his help, and he’d let her slip through his fingers.

Rick’s hand squeezed his knee gently, and Daryl glanced up at him for a second, before lowering his gaze again. “Hey, you can’t beat yourself up about this. Can’t let other people beat you up neither.” Rick said, allowing the warm affection he felt for Daryl bleed into his voice.

Daryl smiled a little at that, but he still didn’t raise his eyes, continuing to pick at his shirt. He shrugged, pushing back into the wall, hoping it would just cave through so he could get the fuck out. “I was stupid. Fell right into that damn trap. Too fuckin’ blind.”

Rick frowned. “What happened, Daryl?”

Daryl sighed, his absent minded picking of his shirt suddenly becoming more focused, tearing out strands at a time. “We found this place. Beth’d sprained her ankle, so I carried her on in there. A serious piggyback.” He smiled a little, before the smile disappeared and he yanked out another thread, “An’ this place was clean. Real clean, like someone had been lookin’ after it. We set up all the alarms and that, and we hear this dog. So I check it out, and there’s some old lookin’ scruff ball on the doorstep. Tried to get it in and it ran off.” He paused, ripping the thread into two pieces. He wasn’t going to tell Rick about the rest of that night. Wasn’t gonna tell anyone. That was his. That song and that evening, when everything was going good, that was his. Clenching his jaw, Daryl kept on. “Then, we hear the dog again. An’ she looks at me, all hopeful like. An’ I go to try get him in. Don’t look. Don’t got my crossbow, don’t even hesitate. Just open that door.” He stops again, the torn thread held loosely in his hands. Rick doesn’t push him, and the rest of the container is silent. He takes a moment, clears his throat. “An’ then there’s walkers. Shout to Beth, she gives me my bow and I tell her to run. Grab her shit and I’ll meet her by the road.” He stops again, the lump in his throat suddenly much more of a problem.

Rick shifts a little closer, moving his hand from Daryl’s knee up to his shoulder.

Daryl nods his appreciation, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of his bottom lip. He could feel it starting to tremble, and he wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t. “I run. Get past those walkers. Get out front and… an’ she’s gone.”

His voice broke on the last word, the guilt of losing her crawling up his spine. His fist clenched around the thread he still had in his hand, nails digging into his palm. His head drops, and he sniffs, trying to keep the emotion that threatened to bubble over the surface under wraps.

Rick’s shifted even closer, his grip on Daryl’s shoulder just that much tighter, encouraging him to go on.

“An’ I ran, Rick, I chased that car til I couldn’t run no more. Then I walked, and tracked until I couldn’t walk no more. S’when they found me. Joe and his lot. An’ I just went with ‘em. Just went and left her out there, cause I just keep thinkin’ she’s dead Rick, just like all them others. That she’ll be dead an’ it’s all my damn fault. ‘Cause I opened that door to that fuckin’ _dog_.” That’s when Daryl Dixon broke just a little, the cap on his grief unable to hold what was bubbling up. He started to cry, short quiet heaves of breath as his cheeks became damp with tears. His hands shook, and when Rick tugged him forward into an embrace, Daryl didn’t resist. He let himself get pulled against Rick’s chest and just hid his face in the crook of Rick’s shoulder like a child, and cried into his bloody shirt.

The container was silent, except for Daryl’s heaves of breath and low quiet sobs. No-one dared move or speak, simply baring witness to the crumble of a man they never expected to break.

“It’s alright. It’s alright Daryl, it wasn’t your fault.” Rick said quietly, his arms locked in a vice around Daryl’s body, like if he hugged him tight enough he could protect him from anything.

Daryl shook his head, his breathing more under control but the tears still streaming down his face. “Was. Is. I’m gunna find ‘er Rick. Gunna find her.”

“Yeah. I know. I know you are. But you gotta keep strong. Keep movin’ forward. Don’t do you no good to dwell on what could have been. It happened, and we’re gunna fix it. Ain’t no-one’s fault.” Rick said, his voice drifting through the whole of the container, the gentle forgiveness evident to everyone.

 Maggie sighed and rested her head against Glenn’s shoulder, a silent and unseen submission. Twisting slightly, her husband gave her a brief kiss, lips barely brushing her hair. She wouldn’t forget that Daryl had let her sister get taken, but at the same time, she wasn’t going to attack him for it. Now the adrenaline and the anger were settling and she could think straight, she was beginning to re-think what she had said.

“Sorry.” She said quietly, glancing over to where Daryl and Rick where.

Daryl stiffened in Rick’s arms, his face still hidden against Rick’s body his fingers tightening around the fabric of his friend’s jacket. He froze, unsure of what to do.

Rick rubbed a comforting hand up Daryl’s back, patting his shoulder gently before prying himself away from the man. He didn’t say a word, simply looked at Daryl. Dark eyes stared back, and Daryl sniffed, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek to get rid of the tears that lingered. “Don’t be. Don’t matter.” He mumbled, glancing at Maggie.

Their gazes locked, and an unspoken agreement was formed. They’d find her again. Whatever it took.

 

\--

 

Their escape from Terminus had been months ago. Rick had conjured up a plan and they’d been on the move ever since, never stopping for more than a day or two. There had nearly been a fight in the first week. Abraham had started going on about getting Eugene to Washington, resulting in Daryl flying off the handle, growling about needing to find Beth. When Abraham had bellowed that she was probably dead, Daryl had to be held back by Rick and Glenn, his words forming snarls as he tried to rip himself free. It had taken a few days before it cooled down, with Rick making the final decision for them to try and find Beth first. Eugene and Rosita decided they wanted to stay, and that forced Abraham’s hand in staying too, which was why round two had now kicked off in the middle of a road.

“We need to stop this, this isn’t saving anyone.” Abraham growled, standing directly in Daryl’s path, hands on hips, subtly drawing attention to the gun that lay against his thigh.

Daryl glowered at the Sergeant from behind his long fringe, pacing back and forth across the length of the road. Each time he moved, Abraham moved to block him, the two slowly sizing each other up like two tigers behind a pane of glass. Except there was no glass to stop blood being shed when one of them snapped. “We’re gonna keep goin’.”

Abraham sighed, his head tilting backwards to push his chin out defiantly. “We need to take Eugene to Washington.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Beth’s gonna be in Washington, so we’re gonna keep walkin’ round here til we find her. Don’t give a shit what kind of stupid stuff your guy’s got rattling round in his brain, I ain’t leavin’ ‘til we find her. Never said you had to follow me.” Daryl snarled, his crossbow beginning to swing a little higher as he paced, as if he was thinking about using it to move the bigger man out of his damn way.

“The others won’t leave you, so that makes you the problem.” Abraham said, his eyes flicking up as he saw the first of the others start to come round the corner. He saw Rick, who immediately held a hand out to slow the rest of the group.

Daryl’s fingers tightened on his bow. “Yeah? You think that’s gonna change my mind?”

Abraham shrugged, watching as the group approached, Rick’s hand hovering over his gun as he spoke up. “Daryl.”

Daryl didn’t turn, keeping his gaze fixed on Abraham. He hummed, loud enough that Rick heard.

“What’s goin’ on?” He asked, eyes flicking between the two agitated men.

Abraham spoke up, halting his mirroring of Daryl’s steps. “Just having a friendly conversation.”

“That what you’re callin’ it now?” Daryl paused in his pacing, glancing at Rick with his body still tense for a fight, his crossbow flickering between being at his side and halfway up to aim. “Buggin’ me about goin’ off to damn Washington.”

Rick sighed dramatically, letting his shoulders relax from their tensed position. “An’ there I thought we had something serious on our hands. You know he’s not leaving ‘til we find her.”

“Me neither.” Maggie piped up from the back of the group, her hand entwined with Glenn’s.

Eugene nodded too. “I don’t think we should leave yet either.”

Daryl pointed his crossbow at Eugene, turning to face Abraham. “There y’have it. Now get the hell outta my way.” He growled, storming past the muscular man to continue down the road, his pace fast and unforgiving.

Abraham shook his head as the group started to follow again, Daryl a few good metres ahead. “He needs to stop chasing something he isn’t going to find. It’s been what, two months? Three? No way that girl survived out here on her own that long.”

No-one responded, only Michonne shot him a glare. They’d all secretly been thinking it for weeks, even Maggie. Beth wasn’t the hardened survivor, she was the sweet girl who sang songs for when it got too sad, the young woman who took care of Judith and made them all smile. The odds were, she was dead, but nobody wanted to argue with Daryl. They were afraid it would crush him, so they let him lead them across the state searching for her.

“We can’t take away his hope.” Carl said finally, the authority in his tone the exact replica of his fathers.

Rick let a small smile cross his face before nodding. “Carl’s right. We tell him we’re leaving and he’ll go one of two ways. He’ll leave on his own or he’ll come with us and be a shell of what he was.”

“Maybe for a time, but he’ll get over it.” Abraham muttered, watching the angel wings just ahead.

Tara stopped, gripping hold of Abraham’s arm and pulling him to a halt too. “Get over it?” She repeated in disbelief. The rest of the group stopped as well, watching them both.

“You heard right.” Abraham shook his arm free, starting to walk again. “Takes a while but it’ll happen.”

Michonne shook her head, fixing the army sergeant with a glare. “You don’t know him.”

“If we leave without him and he goes off on his own? He won’t last. He needs to be with people. If he comes with us? He’ll be haunted by what could of happened to her, if he could have found her. I don’t know what happened between those two when they got out of the prison, but Beth’s brought something out of him that y’don’t often see. At the moment, I think the only thing that’s keeping him going is the hope that he’ll find her again. So, we are not giving up til we find out what happened to Beth and that’s the end of it.” Rick said in a tone that offered no lenience.

There were no more arguments from Abraham after that, the group just following the distant angel wings down the length of road. They let Daryl get further and further in front, seeing him round the corner of the road. Rick sighed, picking up his pace. “C’mon. We don’t want him to get out of sight for too long, otherwise he might think it’s a good idea to go it alone if you keep on at him.” The comment was targeted at Abraham, but the man didn’t respond.

It went quiet for a while, only the sound of footsteps to be heard.

“You don’t think he would do you?” Glenn asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Rick took a few seconds to answer. “No.”

They walked quickly, an uneasy feeling spreading across the group of people.

As they came to the corner, Carl let out a gasp. “No.”

On the ground in front of them, was Daryl’s crossbow.

 

\--

 

Daryl walked as fast as he could; ignoring whatever mutterings he thought he could hear from the group. They’d given up. He could tell, knew it by the way they looked at him. All sympathy and grief. But he wasn’t giving up. They didn’t see her out here, didn’t watch her start to grow into a hunter, a survivor. She could hold her own, she could still be alive. He couldn’t give up on her. She wouldn’t give up on him.

As he started to round the corner of the road, he heard the scrape of feet across gravel, and his bow was instantly raised, pressed against his shoulder with an arrow set to fly. His knees automatically bent, and he crept forwards, sticking to the middle of the road.

Someone was walking about one hundred metres ahead, ragged clothes stained with blood and mud. Judging by the long dirty hair and the way she walked, it was a woman. Young woman. She was keeping a good pace, though she looked a little on the thin side, her shirt fitting loosely across her shoulders. The sleeves had been torn off, maybe by a walker, maybe by herself. As Daryl kept looking, his crossbow was slowly being lowered. He’d stopped walking, just watching her walk up the road.

“Beth?” He called out, the single word dripping in hope, eyes squinting to see if she reacted.

The woman stopped. The bag she had been holding was lowered slowly to the ground, and she turned.

“Beth.” Daryl breathed out, dropping his crossbow. The weapon clattered to the ground, and before he could even think about it he was running towards her, his leather jacket whipping out behind him at the sudden wind.

“Daryl.” Beth whispered back, watching as he dropped his bow and started to run. She didn’t need another prompt. Her bag forgotten; she took off towards him, a smile gracing her face for the first time in months.

They met in the middle, colliding with each other with enough force to almost topple them both over. Beth started to laugh, her arms locking around Daryl’s waist with surprising iron strength. She kept giggling, even as Daryl’s arms hooked around her shoulders, pulling her head against his chest.

“Thought I’d lost ya. Thought I’d never see you again.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Beth grinned, tilting her head up to look at him properly. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, Daryl Dixon.”

 There was the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as his dark blue eyes bore into hers. They were almost just as he remembered, the little light of mischief among the hopeful optimism the girl always seemed to express. He didn’t remember the shadow that flickered across her gaze though; before he had lost her there had been little taint of this shitty world that they lived in. Now, he knew she wasn’t as naïve as she had once been. She had blood on her hands, both figuratively and literally, and that was on Daryl. His gaze softened, allowing some of the pain he felt to feature through his expression – eyes looking down at her, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

She frowned, lifting her body up onto her toes, getting within inches of his face. She didn’t say anything, just watched him quizzically, her eyes dropping to his lips.

He thought about apologising. For everything he’d fucked up, for everything that she had to go through because of him, for everything she’d lost. But the way she watched him, the way that light sparkled in her eyes, he knew he was already forgiven, before he even had time to blame himself. She’d forgive him, she knew he was sorry for whatever it was he felt was his fault and she’d always forgive him.

So he didn’t speak.

 

\--

 

As soon as they’d spotted Daryl’s crossbow, Michonne and Carl had shot forwards, running down the road. The group had been hot on their heels, dread washing over all of them like a cold tidal wave. Rick’s heart hammered against his chest as scenarios flicked through his mind, and he couldn’t help but wonder for a split second if Daryl had just left.

Abraham had been on at him today, and there was only so far the man would go before he’d snap. Was this his snap? The crossbow being left as a sign that he was done, he was out, he would go on alone?

No. Daryl loved that weapon, and he wouldn’t last without it. He wouldn’t have just left them, not without showing signs he was going to bolt first.

Then had he been taken? Like Beth had.

Rick dismissed that idea too, they would have seen something, Daryl would have been on the lookout for that _because_ it happened to Beth. That was his only objective nowadays. To find the girl.

Maybe he’d given up.

Rick didn’t expect such a strong stab of pain shoot up his spine at the thought, and he shook it away before he could dwell on it. He couldn’t think that way. Daryl wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t.

Drawing his gun, Rick’s only assumption was that there were Walkers, too many for Daryl to take so he’d run instead.

As they finally rounded the corner, the whole group came to a skidding stop behind Carl and Michonne, weapons still raised but long forgotten, their attention fixed on the only two beings standing in the middle of the road.

Relief flooded through Rick, and his arms went limp, flopping down to his sides as he panted for breath. After a few gulps of air from the quick run, he finally took in what was happening further down the road.

Daryl stood with a woman tangled up in his arms, her dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and falling over his arms that he had locked round her shoulders. She looked like she was stuck to him, pressed as close as possible, her face turned into his chest.

She pulled back a little, and the group got a look at who she was.

“Beth.” Maggie breathed, gripping Glenn’s arm as her knees suddenly went weak.

Tara, the girl who had helped Glenn, let a smile spread across her face. She’d grown to be firm friends with both Daryl and Michonne, and with the tales she’d heard of Beth from the both of them (as well as the fact she had eyes and a brain), she’d long since figured out there was something between the bowman and the young girl.

Daryl and Beth seemed oblivious to the fact they were being watched, so engrossed in each other. They didn’t look like they were saying anything anymore; just simply staring at each other as if if they looked away, it would all be a dream.

“C’mon, do it you great wimp.” Michonne muttered, earning a chuckle from Carl.

As if he’d heard her, Daryl leaned closer to Beth. Brushing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear, Daryl cupped her jaw in his hand, tilting her head up. Her eyes slid closed and she leaned into his hand. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Taking a steadying breath, Daryl finally pressed his lips against hers, like he had done a thousand times before in his dreams. None of them stood up to the real thing. Having her respond under his touch, her warm body moving with his, her gentle satisfied sigh sending shivers down his back as her breath tickled his skin, having her right there against him, nothing could ever compare to it.

The kiss was short, sweet, although it would have become much more heated had it not been for Michonne’s celebratory whoop, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. Daryl quickly pulled away, his ears burning. Beth just giggled and turned towards the group, her face lighting up even more at the sight of almost everyone from the prison group. She waved, and without a second thought she threaded her fingers through his, starting to drag him off towards their group.

Their family.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first Walking Dead fic, so I hope I've managed to get them all mostly in character and that you've enjoyed it! Thank you for reading.


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